


Flash Photography

by FairweatherEden



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pining, Pink Panties, Rugby, photographer!cas, player!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:09:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5108984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairweatherEden/pseuds/FairweatherEden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this photo prompt from jesh14 and brainstormed with her and jentothepen.</p><p>http://yourehereuninvited730.tumblr.com/post/126255639940/reasons-to-always-wear-cute-underwear</p><p>Enjoy.</p><p>You can also buy me a coffee if you enjoyed this, but don't feel obliged. :)<br/>http://ko-fi.com/A0554W9</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flash Photography

Dean Winchester was the fly half for the US Eagles and he was not in a good mood.

 

 _Fucking Benny._ Dean thought. His best friend just made a bad day - hell, bad week worse. This was quite possibly the worst day of his life. They had a match coming up against the All Blacks and had been training constantly. On top of that, a water pipe burst in his flat, so he’d been couch surfing at Benny’s place across town, who also had a cat. Dean was allergic to cats. And now this happened.

 

He didn’t think anyone but Benny noticed, but he was still pissed.

 

With so many things going wrong, he just wanted to cheer himself up. It was only practice, and it’s not like he’d wear them during an actual game. He knows that stuff like this happens, but he didn’t think it would ever happen to him. He’s a fucking fly half, he shouldn’t be grabbed like that, but it was just his luck. Just his luck that he was distracted by that fucking blue-eyed asshole. Just his luck that the only thing that made him feel better were pink and satiny. Just his luck that Benny grabbed him and pulled down his shorts for everyone to see.

 

He walked into the locker room and punched the metal door that brandished his name. Everyone had already changed and left, he couldn’t face them or what they might say. Days later he would find out that no one even noticed, not even Benny, but that was later. This is now.

 

Now he’s got to deal with... _SHIT_.

 

Dean stopped in the middle of unlacing his cleats. The photographer.

 

He was hired six months ago to Dean’s joy and endless misery. Tousled dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and the star of Dean’s fantasies for just as long.

 

His name was Castiel Novak. Apparently he was a well-travelled photojournalist; he had his photos in National Geographic and Time Magazines. He’d won a Pulitzer and a Lucie, he was famous and well-known, but took a job with the national rugby team, to Dean’s endless confusion.

 

He knew that rugby wasn’t big in the US, but he loved it anyway. Played for the Jayhawks in university, and got picked up by the Blues, then to the national team. He missed Kansas, but at least he gets to do what he loves.

 

But why would such a fancy photographer, who probably has a model girlfriend, take a job with them? Every time Dean would look over and see Cas on the sidelines, he’d be staring down at his camera smiling.

 

Dean’s heart broke a little bit more each time. If only he could get that smile instead of a bunch of photographs. Dean knew he was pathetic, and six weeks into Cas’s tenure, after a very drunken rant, so did Benny.

 

“Just talk to him, brutha.” Benny would say, almost daily to a point. Now Benny just shakes his head.

 

That’s the thing, though. Dean has never talked to him. Not one word. He’d never even heard Cas speak to anyone either. Sure, he’d seen him talk, but was too far away to ever hear his voice.

 

And now the photographer was present during training, when Dean’s shorts were pulled down to reveal the pink, satin panties beneath. Could his life get any worse?

 

“Excuse me.” Dean’s head shot up at the unfamiliar voice in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed anyone enter the room during his wallowing. The voice was deep and gravelly, and sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. Looking up only made things worse. Worse because the voice belonged to none other than Castiel Novak.

 

* * *

 

Cas swallowed and stared at the small digital screen on his camera. His eyes were wide and his throat was dry. He couldn’t speak let alone form coherent thoughts.

 

Castiel Novak had been the team photographer for the US Eagles for six months, and in those six months he had taken thousands of photos. Granted, many of them featured the green-eyed, freckled, bowlegged captain of the team (more than he really should have), but none were like this.

 

He didn’t know what to do but stare.

 

He had taken millions of photos during his career, but this was probably his instant favourite.

 

Sure, he had noticed Dean, how could he not. The guy was gorgeous. And, being honest with himself, Cas felt a little stalkerish with his lens constantly following the man. Yes, it was his job, but it had become voyeuristic the moment he first saw the fly half.

 

Cas needed a change of pace from his work, and having gone to school in the UK, he became smitten with the sport… as well as the players. But Dean was just something else, something that made Cas quiver. He had never spoken to the man, not sure of what to say. He didn’t want to embarrass himself, especially if Dean didn’t swing that way. But six months of frustration was getting to Cas and this had broken what was left of his will.

 

The juxtaposition of the pink satin underwear on such a muscled body… Cas couldn’t hold it in any longer. Either he’d get shot down or… in his most favourite dreams, not - but either way, he had to know.

 

He hung back near the locker room entrance. The players had all come and gone, but no Dean. He sighed and started packing his gear when he saw Dean storm past him, with an angry look and oblivious to his presence.

 

 _Well, shit._ Cas thought. He took a few moments to psych himself up again before entering the locker room. Why in the Hell did he think this was a good idea again?!

 

* * *

 

Dean just stared. Cas was standing in front of him, bag over his shoulder, and camera in hand. The silence between them seemed to stretch as their eyes locked.

 

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I… um…” Cas started to say, but Dean’s anger flared up again. Cas’s voice was too much for Dean, but there was no other reason for the guy to come see him unless… _Fuck!_ Dean thought, unless he knew.

 

“Look, I don’t know what your game is, but I’ve been having a shit week and I don’t need you coming in here to make it even worse. What do you want for it?” Dean could afford to pay whatever the guy wanted, hopefully.

 

Cas tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow. He didn’t understand. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

 

“Look, not that I need to explain myself, but I didn’t think…” Dean sighed and dropped his eyes to the floor. “Yeah, so I wear.. those… I just needed to feel. Ugh, why am I even explaining this to you? You and your stupid fucking perfect face waltz in here and try and blackmail me and--” Dean clapped his hand over his mouth. _FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK_.

 

Cas let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. He thanked every god and goddess in existence for that slip of Dean’s tongue. Cas squared his shoulders and took a step closer to Dean, his confidence came back to him in full strength. He licked his perpetually chapped-looking lips. Dean’s eyes followed the movement and glanced back at Cas’s eyes. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Dean.

 

Dean’s eyes went wide as his hands dropped from his mouth, “Look, I--” he started backtracking, but there was no time to get any more words out. Cas grabbed the back of the fly half’s neck and crashed their lips together.

 

Dean’s brain stuttered for a moment. Cas. Cas was kissing him. _What the fuck?!_ Before he could even respond, Cas pulled back, a small frown clouding over his face. “Oh, I.. I apologise, I just thought… I mean… that you… that you thought… fuck.” His shoulders started to hunch.

 

Dean stood there dumbfounded. Wait, Cas liked him. Cas wasn’t blackmailing him. There was only one thing Dean needed to know for sure. “Why?” He asked in a small voice.

 

“I saw your…” he licked his lips, “I saw what you were wearing and I just… You are beautiful.” Cas said, his voice rough. Dean’s eyes dilated as he grabbed Cas and pulled him close. Lips met lips again, and this time both were participating. Cas’s bag dropped, so did his camera. He didn’t give a fuck if it broke right now, maybe he would later, but the only thing he cared about right this second was getting his hands on Dean.

 

Their bodies were pressed up against one another but Cas crowded Dean back towards the lockers and slammed the slightly larger man into them. Dean let out a moan when it happened. Cas started moving down his jaw with open mouthed kisses. Tasting the sweat and dirt. He ground his hips into Dean’s, both of them sporting impressive erections already.

 

“Fuck. That feels so good. Wanted this for so long.” Dean said, his head tipped back against the cool metal.

 

Cas stopped and looked at Dean, his pupils blown in lust. “Really?”

 

Dean looked at the photographer and swallowed. “Yes.”

 

Cas smiled, “Good, because masturbating to photos of you is nowhere near as satisfying as this.”

 

Dean’s eyes went wide for a second, and then his lips curled into a smirk. “Really now...”

 

“Yes.” Cas said, his lips diving back towards Dean.

  
_Best day ever._ Dean thought.

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments and kudos.
> 
> Check my tumblr at freckles-n-feathers.tumblr.com


End file.
